Novels by C.I. Malley

Emma's Pov The wedding dress arrived at six a.m., three days before the ceremony. I stared at it hanging in my room, white silk, simple and elegant, exactly what I would have chosen for a real wedding. That made it worse somehow.Patricia appeared in my doorway with coffee and a tablet. "Good morning. We have final preparations today. Hair and makeup trial at nine, photographer meeting at eleven, and Alexander wants to rehearse your vows at two.""Rehearse vows?" I took the coffee gratefully. "I thought we were doing standard vows.""You are, but you need to practice saying them without looking like you're being held hostage." Patricia's tone was brisk. "The press will be watching for any sign this isn't real. Sterling's team is already spreading rumors.""What kind of rumors?"Patricia hesitated. "That you're an escort Alexander hired. That the marriage is a green card situation. That you're after his money. The usual ugliness when a wealthy man marries someone unknown." She set the

Alexander’s PovMargaret saw through us in approximately forty-five seconds."You're engaged." My grandmother set down her teacup with a delicate click that somehow sounded like a gunshot. "How wonderful. When did this whirlwind romance begin, exactly?""Three weeks ago, at the charity gala," I said smoothly. Emma sat beside me on the antique sofa, her hand in mine. It was smaller than I expected, and trembling slightly. "Emma planned the event.""So you hired her, then proposed within weeks. How romantic." Margaret's shrewd eyes moved to Emma. "Tell me, dear, what do you love most about my grandson?"Emma's hand tightened on mine. "He's different from what people think. Everyone sees the cold CEO, but I see someone who cares deeply about his foundation kids, someone who works himself to exhaustion because he feels responsible for everyone who depends on him. He's lonely, and he doesn't have to be."The room went silent. I stared at Emma, caught off guard by the truth in her words. Th

Emma's Pov I signed the contract three hours later in a lawyer's office that David Chen insisted on providing. The ink was barely dry when Alexander's assistant Patricia transferred fifty-three thousand dollars into my account, and suddenly I could breathe again for the first time in two years."The wedding is in five days," Patricia informed me as we left the lawyer's office. She was a polished woman in her fifties with sharp eyes that missed nothing. "We're telling the press it's been a whirlwind romance. You'll need to move into the penthouse tomorrow so we can prepare you.""Prepare me for what?""For being Mrs. Alexander Cross." She handed me a thick binder. "This covers everything, how to dress, how to speak to the media, which forks to use at formal dinners, and the names and backgrounds of everyone in Alexander's social circle. Study it tonight. Tomorrow, we start your transformation."I clutched the binder to my chest, feeling like I'd just sold my soul. "Patricia, can I ask

Alexander's Pov Emma Clarke walked into my office at exactly nine a.m., no lawyer in sight. She wore a navy dress that had seen better days and carried herself like she was facing a firing squad instead of a business meeting."Miss Clarke. Please, sit." I gestured to the chair across from my desk. "No legal counsel?""I can't afford a lawyer, Mr. Cross. Whatever this proposal is, I'll just have to trust my own judgment." She met my eyes directly, no flinching. I respected that.David Chen stood by the window, arms crossed. He'd argued against this plan for two hours last night, calling it reckless and insane. He wasn't wrong, but I was out of options."I need a wife."Emma blinked. "I'm sorry, what?""Not a real wife. A contractual one. One year, public appearances only, living in my penthouse to maintain the illusion. In exchange, I'll pay you two million dollars and clear all your debts immediately."The color drained from her face. "Is this a joke?""Alexander, maybe we should exp

Emma's Pov "Miss Clarke, you have fourteen days before we begin foreclosure proceedings."I stared at the banker across the desk, his words hitting me like physical blows. Fourteen days. Two weeks to come up with fifty thousand dollars or lose the only thing I had left of my father, our apartment."I understand," I whispered, gathering my purse with trembling hands. "Thank you for your time."The February air bit through my thin coat as I stepped onto the Manhattan sidewalk. Three jobs. I worked three jobs, and it still wasn't enough. The medical bills from Dad's cancer treatment had swallowed everything: my savings, my business, my future. Now they wanted the apartment too.My phone buzzed. Sophie."Please tell me the bank meeting went well," my best friend said without preamble."Fourteen days, Soph. Then I'm homeless."Her sharp intake of breath said everything. "Emma, I can loan you….""You're about to have a baby. You need that money." I blinked back tears, refusing to cry on a